


Doing Time

by MarvelingMarvelous



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Prison, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Peter has anger issues, Peter throws a tantrum, Prison, Tony is drug lord, Tony set things straight, in a gay way tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 23:02:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15496707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelingMarvelous/pseuds/MarvelingMarvelous
Summary: He was clean now. He was good now, and if anyone tried to fuck that up for him— well he’d probably walk right into that trap, because he’s still a shitty teenager who can’t just keep his hands to himself when someone crosses him.Luckily (or maybe unluckily) for him Tony had eyes all over this prison, so even if he royally slipped up and got his hands dirty. Daddy was always there to clean the slate for him, and unfortunately also there to deal out his baby’s punishment.[Or, Tony is a big time drug lord and Peter’s day to day stability is generally questionable, both are just killing their prison time with each other.]





	Doing Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this story was inspired by the new season of OITNB. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> I headcanon Peter as 18 in this story, but because of the severity of his crimes he was charged as an adult at the age of 15 before being sent to prison where he's been chilling for the last 3 years. So just a heads up. XD

 

 

“Holy shit, man. You’re eating good tonight, aren’t you?” Ned teased, as he playfully swatted at his best friend’s shoulder. Peter just rolled his eyes, as he failed to keep the smile off his face. 

 

“Come on, Ned. It’s nothing-”

 

“They almost had to give you a second tray to carry all that. Don’t play humble with me.” Ned shook his head in disbelief, taking his seat at their usual table in the lunch hall. “Do me a favor? Put in a good word for me with Mr. Stark. As it is now I can practically count each grain of rice that chef gave me on my hands.”

 

“Considered your good word received.” Peter announced with a cheeky grin, while tossing his extra pudding cup across the table. “He keeps getting them to give me all this extra crap. I already told him I don’t need it, so have at it.”

 

“And have the wrath of your drug lord lover rain down upon me? Are you trying to kill me?” Ned accused, flicking the sugary delight back toward his friend.

 

“He won’t do shit-”

 

“You’re right! He’ll just get someone else to.” Ned pointed out exaggeratedly, as if it should have been obvious to him in the first place.

 

“Shut up.” Peter chuckled, shoving the pudding back with a firm hand. “Eat. He won’t touch you.” 

 

Ned merely huffed, but nonetheless ripped open the plastic and dug into the artificially flavored vanilla bliss. Peter beamed at his little victory. The satisfaction of his conquest coming to a pause only when he realized he hadn’t managed to snag any utensils with his meal.

 

“I’ll be right back. I forgot my spork.” Peter explained quickly. Swiftly standing up and heading back toward the food line to retrieve his necessary plastic tool. Unfortunately, he didn’t get too far before he came crashing down _hard_ against the busted tiles of the cafeteria’s floor. All he could hear was the room erupt in a loud audible _“ooo”_ sound as his head continued spinning from the impact. 

 

It wasn’t until he managed to turn himself onto his back that he was able to put a face to the cause for his little accident. 

 

Peter had never seen this man in the past three years he’s been living in this cement box. He quickly connected the dots realizing the imbecile was probably just some fresh meat who was trying to make a public example out of him from the look of things.

 

“What’s wrong, faggot boy? You ain’t much without your prison daddy, are you?” The man chastised, standing above Peter striking a comical super villain pose.

 

Peter did nothing. Keeping his lips tightly pulled together as he just silently glared up at the raging idiot. From across the room Ned tensed recognizing the signs of an outburst brewing in his friend.

 

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard all about you, and that bullshit special treatment these fuckers give you. People around here be acting like your shit don’t stink, and all because you’re out there greasing some old man’s cock.” The man laughed, definitely trying his best to make a show of it. Trying to get the other inmates to take his side and teach the spoil brat at his feet a lesson in humility.

 

The room just remained as silent and unmoving as the dead. 

 

Peter scoffed hollowly, before kicking the man’s boot away from him. Only shaking his head in disbelief as he pulled himself up. Immediately one could tell the boy’s shallow laughs were wreaking havoc on the man’s self-esteem.

 

“Something funny, pussy-boy?” 

 

The cold, distant gaze Peter tossed back his way said something in itself despite the boy’s continued silence. His clenched jaw the only sign of his fuming anger as he seemed to be weighing his next actions very carefully.

 

“Peter!” 

 

Peter’s distant gaze fell past the no name newbie, finding Ned over his shoulder giving him a pleading look.

 

“Just leave it.” He advised desperately, gesturing for Peter to walk back over toward him, so they could just carry on with their lives. 

 

“Yeah- listen to your friend and go jerk each other off somewhere else.” The man persisted. Still waving his hands wildly as he continued to talk his big talk.

 

Peter huffed, rolling his eyes before shoving past the jackass. Retreating to Ned and their table in silence. Ignoring the “that’s what I thought.” he heard mumbled behind him with an ignorant bliss.

 

“Come on, man. If Tony found out that you got into it again he’d kill you... and then _me_. It’s not worth it.” Ned tried to reason with his stewing friend once the general chatter of the cafeteria picked back up.

 

Peter wasn’t hardly listening anymore though. He was somewhere else entirely. Eyes still glued to the back of the man’s head. He was beyond Ned’s reach at this point and whatever was about to happen was definitely going to come back to bite Ned in the ass.

 

“Peter...”

 

“It’s fine, Ned.” Peter mused. Shaking off the angry haze with an almost expert level of convincing. He smiled, patting his friend reassuringly on the shoulder. “Really. I’m just going to head back to my bunk.”

 

“You haven’t even eaten yet.” Ned tried to pull him back to reality. Peter waved his hand dismissively as he walked down the hall.

                                                                                           

“Not hungry.”

 

Ned sighed, sitting back down in defeat. Already the nerves were causing his legs to tremble.

 

If Peter did what he thought he was going to do Mr. Stark would crucify him for not warning him first, and Ned wasn’t about to risk losing that man’s favor.

 

He just hung his head as he groaned at the possibilities, before quietly collecting his extra pudding cup and began his search for the older man.

 

_Guess I’m gonna be the snitch today._

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

It was later that day, during the whine down of all the day’s prison activities when shit would hit the fan.

 

A few stray souls had wandered away from the millionth rerun of the Titanic in the main hall to take advantage of the near empty showers. And as sources informed him this included the nameless fucker from earlier. Shortly after receiving this information Peter pardoned himself from movie night with a silent excuse to the sleeping guard.

 

He made sure to keep his eyes peeled for Tony, and any of his loyal little followers that would surely put a wrench in his plan, but as luck would have it Peter had a straight shot to the west wing’s showers.

 

He let the last couple people pass him as they exited the showers, all of whom were avoiding eye contact and any problems that would surely come from the kid’s infamous temper tantrums.

 

It wasn’t long before the only one left in the showers was his target. Peter began unraveling the cable chord from around his waist, he had managed to swipe the chord in secret while innocently helping the guard set up for movie night.

 

He walked closer, hearing the last shower head turn off. Still winding the cord around his hands expertly. 

 

This wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

 

The clueless man barely had time to wrap a towel around his waist before Peter rounded the corner and had the chord wrapped around his neck. 

 

It wouldn’t be a victory without a fight it seemed as the man attempted to push Peter off him. His hands desperately trying to pry the chord from around his throat. 

 

Despite the backlash Peter was outright laughing at the resistance. Managing to shove the man against the nearby mirror, violently drumming the man’s head against the shattering glass repeatedly.

 

Peter was surprised to find the man was still semi-conscious after he let up on the head smashing but deemed it a win for him as he had time left to clarify a few things with the dying man.

 

“I don’t know where you got your information, but I’m not here on some first-time drug offence like your sorry ass.” Peter hissed, pulling tighter and tighter on the chord as he spoke venomously.

 

“These people don’t fuck me because of what my ‘prison daddy’ might do to them...” The boy snapped, releasing his hold as the man gasped weakly, but desperately for air. Only offering to savagely kick the choking slut within an inch of his life. “They don’t fuck with me because of what _I_ will definitely do to them.”

 

Peter seemed to finally find some peace in his bloodied up handy work, as he finally stopped his brutal assault. Stepping over the battered limp body as he leaned over the bathroom counter top to see his reflection in the remains of the broken mirror. 

 

Pouting as he took in his wild hair, and the light sheen of sweat coating his arms. He sighed, clearly disgruntled. Tossing his hair back with his right hand, before turning back to look at the man groaning in pain below him.

 

“Look what you made me do, you jackass. Now I’m all sweaty and gross. How am I supposed to impress my prison daddy now?” Peter was straight up cackling now. Absolutely reveling in his superiority. His boot pressing down against the side of man’s face now, as he smudged his dirty shoe prints against his cheek.

 

Evidently the man left bruised and bloodied under Peter’s boot didn’t know when to quit. As he suddenly spit his own blood at Peter with failed aim. 

 

“Fuck you, you nasty faggot.”

 

Peter eyes only narrowed as he cocked his head to the side.

 

“You know... I really can’t stand you homophobic pieces of shit...” Peter sighed, as he reached for the folded waist line of his pants, unraveling the fabric to reveal a well-crafted shank. “I’m done here.” 

 

The man’s eyes widen in horror at the sight, and a newly rekindled urge to fight sprung forth. Surprising even Peter as he reached up wrestling the boy for his weapon. Peter cussed as he fell on top of the man, refusing to let his weapon go. Kneeing the felon where it counts in their shuffle. 

 

He would have had the man’s throat cut open and had him silently bleeding out while he went back to watch the last half of his movie too if he wasn’t suddenly interrupted. 

 

Peter felted himself being pried off his prey and being pulled backwards by a powerful force. He gasped, suddenly fearing the worse. That the piece of shit managed to get his goons to swoop in and save him last minute. Peter refused to go down so easily though. 

 

The boy became flailing wildly trying to get the brute behind him to let him go. Admittedly his squirming did nothing to overpower the man, only cause him mild difficulty in keeping his grip around him stable.

 

“Give him to me, take care of the other guy.” 

 

Immediately the fight left Peter’s body. Instantly recognizing that chilling voice, he nearly cowered back like a dog with his tail between his legs. Regardless he was passed off to the new man, and very quickly found himself shoved up against a bathroom stall door.

 

He couldn’t contain himself as he felt his arms being twisted back at an unnatural angle, unleashing a series of mumbled but audible curse words as his cheek smushed up against the wall and every little movement caused him unnecessary pain.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Huh?” Tony was practically spitting fire against Peter’s ear and it made Peter whimper just feeling his heated breath against his neck.

 

“You seriously went and pulled this shit? After I get my lawyer to practically wave a magic wand and make all three of your past murder charges disappear, you do something like this??” Tony was livid. Reaching out to force the boy’s chin in the direction of the man he almost killed. Now being held down by two of Tony’s lackies, Steve and Bucky. Peter just whined, hating the feeling of disappointing Tony more than anything.

 

“I’m sor-ry!” The boy managed to squeak out despite the older man’s painful grip on the back of his neck.

 

“Is that a fucking shive? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tony suddenly snapped through gritted teeth. Prying the weapon from the boy’s closed fist. “It’s like you’re a fucking barbarian, I mean come on.” 

 

Peter huffed, smushing his face against the stall door once again. Hating the way Tony was embarrassing him in front of everyone, like he was like a child.

 

“I-”

 

“Look at me,” Tony huffed spinning Peter around but not letting up his hold one bit. “You haven’t been taking your medicine, have you? I swear to god, Pete-” 

 

“I took my medicine!”

 

“Mhm... I’ll believe it when I ask medical tomorrow.”

 

“I’m not lying!” 

 

“Oh yeah- not unlike when you told me you were going to keep your hands clean, huh? God, Pete, you just have 10 more months. I’m out in 7. How the hell are you going to survive for three months without me?”

 

Peter rolled his eyes as he stomped his foot in irritation. It was like he needed the reminder.

 

“I said I’m sorry.” He groaned, throwing his head back as he looked up at the ceiling away from the older man and his fury.

 

“You will be. Now you’re going to march your pretty little ass back to our cell, while I take care of this.” 

 

“But-!”

 

“March! Unless you don’t want my help.” 

 

Peter sighed, before shaking off the man’s hold on him a bit more violently then necessary. Shooting one final glance at the unconscious man by Steve and Bucky’s feet before reluctantly rounding the corner and pouting all the way back to his bunk.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Several minutes later Tony returned to their cell, freshly shower and free of any remaining scent of blood. Peter wasted no time rambling off the apology he had been crafting during his isolation.

 

“Tony, I can explain-”

 

“Save it. Ned already told me what made you want to do it, but neither he nor you can tell me why you did do it.” Tony snapped, using a nearby towel to dry his hair as he scolded the boy further. “I swear- Where is your head at these days, kid? It feels like every time I turn my back you’re getting yourself into more shit.”

 

“I just-”

 

“What did you get your hands on?” 

 

“What?”

 

“Oh, I’m not playing this again- the shit that’s been causing these little episodes of yours.”

 

“...You think— I’m doing drugs again?” 

 

“All roads lead to home, don’t they?” 

 

“God- No, Tony! Wha- Why would you even think that? After everything I went through— when you fuckin’ had everyone in this god forsaken prison smoke me out. Why would I want to go through all that again?!”

 

“Because, Peter— in case this place hasn’t given you proof with numerous examples, sweet-heart, that’s what druggies do.”

 

“But I love you!” Peter suddenly squawked, as if the sentiment was somehow worth something, because to him it meant everything. “I know how much crap I put you through before, I’d rather cut off my own hand before I do that to you again. Why would I blow everything now?” 

 

Tony couldn’t hide the smile that spread across his face at the boy’s sweet proclamation, reaching out to caress the boy’s tender cheeks ever so lovingly.

 

“I love you too, Peter,” Peter sighed dreamily at Tony’s warm touch. Leaning into his palm as he absorbed the sweet words. “...And that’s why I need you to tell me what treacherous rat gave my baby those drugs.”

 

Peter groaned, pushing the man away. Dropping himself down onto the bottom bunk, falling backwards into the mattress with his arms outstretched on either side of him in defeat.

 

“Fuck you.” He mumbled bitterly. Silently glaring up at the various vulgar etchings on the mental frame of the bunk above. Not stopping his little tantrum even when he felt the bed beneath him shift with added weight.

 

“Wanna run that past me again, brat?” Tony spoke in a condescending voice, knowing damn well Peter wouldn’t dare challenge him when he pulled out his _business_ voice.

 

Peter just tucked his eyes away from the tyrant’s burning gaze as he seemed to consider his next words much more carefully.

 

“Did you ever think maybe I’m having these ‘episodes’ because I realized my days with you are now numbered?” Peter said solemnly. Any shard of bitterness now completely dissolved into uncensored sadness.

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“I mean— You said so yourself, you get out in just a couple months and I’m still fuckin’ stuck in this shit-hole.” Peter’s hands reached up to cover his face and muffle the obvious signs of distress in his voice. “You’re right, I have no idea what I’m going to do when I’m all alone again. I just want to enjoy the last few months I have with you free of all these people’s stupid bullshit.”

 

“Peter... Look at me baby.” 

 

“It’s only going to be three months... I’ve got guys in here who will take a bullet for you if anything happens-“

 

“I can take care of myself...”

 

“—And don’t I know it.” Tony gently tapped the moping boy’s cheek as he lightly smirked at all the memories that came flooding back. “But my point is I will still have all your bases covered. Three months will be over in a blink and then you and me will be sipping margaritas on Malibu beach, having the most wonderful sex of your life, all while I see to it you never have to lift a pretty little finger again.”

 

Despite Peter’s natural instinct to continue his bitter sulking resistance was futile as the man had a smile stretching across his face a mile long. Tony immediately spotted the wicked little grin as a sign of weakness and began savagely assaulting the boy’s face with a healthy flurry of kisses. Peter erupted with a girlish laughter as he tried to dodge the loving barrage, instead falling victim to the sneak attack of tickles that teased his sides.

 

Eventually Peter managed to distract the man with a shameless kiss. Stretching up on his elbows to meet the older man’s soft, red lips. His giggling amplifying when the man returned the sweet sentiment with vigor.

 

Peter only shied away from the embrace when the sound of whistles began obnoxiously pouring in from outside their cell. Thanks to the cement walls no one could snoop on them, but when they got too vocal with their love making it could draw some attention.

 

Tony huffed, hating the interruption that had his baby pulling away from him. Sitting up from the mattress, before walking over to the door. Shooting a firm glance to the closest guard who merely turned a blind eye when Tony pulled the cell door closed despite prison guidelines.

 

“Now, Pumpkin.” Tony started, stepping back toward Peter as he tugged off his tank top. “If you think you’re off the hook you’re wrong.”

 

“So... I’m going to need you to bend that pretty ass over and cough for daddy.” 

 

Peter’s face twisted in mild distaste but was mostly consumed in his own dark sense of humor. Smiling like he just got away with murder, because well— he did.

 

“Like hell I’d hide anything from you up there... that would be the worse hiding place ever, now wouldn’t it?” Peter beamed up at the man as he basked in the attention. Before Tony could make any more demands Peter was already up, pulling off his clothes, and bending over the bottom bunk.

 

“But whatever. Better be thorough, daddy.” Tony scoffed, diving into the kid like he was his present on Christmas morning.

 

Tony always spent so much time worrying about how Peter would survive without him. It was only just now hitting him how lost he was going be without Peter.

 

Suddenly three months was starting to sound like a lot more time.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think? How do you feel at Prison AUs for this ship? I'm a sucker for this genre ;)


End file.
